A Competent Staff
by CharmedArtist
Summary: How would that first Halloween have gone if the Hogwarts staff were actually competent?


"Troll – in the dungeons – thought you should know," the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher exclaimed before fainting. Dumbledore immediately pulled his wand and cast a Point Me charm, ignoring the panicked chaos the hall had fallen into; McGonagall cast a firecracker hex into the air and demanded quiet. The students quietened down uneasily, but the attention of all staff was on the headmaster. From the position of his wand it seemed that the troll certainly wasn't in the dungeons; the wood swung between two points in the higher levels of the castle.

"Point Me all students not within the Great Hall," the wizened man ordered his wand, and Sprout gasped when the wand tip barely moved.

"Severus," Dumbledore said, and the Potions Master sprang into action. With two nimble jumps he pushed off first his chair, then the table, and leaped across the hall, robes flapping behind him as he raced out of the double doors towards the unaware student. In his wake he left a hall of awed students and an unconscious DADA professor that was promptly stunned by Flitwick. The former duelling champion suspected Quirrell had been the one to let the troll into the castle, and he trusted his instincts. Best to be certain.

"Remain calm," the headmaster told the gathering, his voice reassuring. "Everything is under control."

OoOoO

Racing up a staircase, Severus Snape saw no need to use the Point Me charm when the stench of the rogue troll was more than apparent to him. Whipping around a corner, he briefly considered discarding the cape that was no doubt slowing him down, but then the stench intensified and he knew the troll to be close. Wrinkling his nose in disgust, Snape slowed and pulled a jar out of his robes with his left hand, his wand held firmly in his right. Coming to a stop, he assumed a sure stance, hearing the troll's shuffling steps around the corner ahead.

"Accio troll brains," he incanted almost lazily; he only had to wait a moment before a stream of grey matter flew around the corner, hitting the bottom of his jar with a disgusting squelch. In the distance, a large body hit the ground.

"Pathetic," Snape snorted, swiftly capping the jar and slipping it back into his robes. "Point me students not in the Great Hall." Spinning on his heel, he headed back the way he had come from, rolling his eyes when he came to a stop before a girls' lavatory. A blubbering child, no doubt.

Knowing himself to have no patience when it came to such things, Snape sent off a Patronus to Sprout – the woman was the most coddling woman in the castle. Stooping, he set down a vial of Calming Drought before the door and headed back towards the troll. There were other potions ingredients he could harvest from the body.

OoOoO

An hour later the children were all in their dormitories, and the four heads of houses were gathered before the bound form of their fellow professor. They all agreed that Quirrell was their main suspect, and while Filius had been unconvinced that restraining the man was necessary, the others had overruled him. Snape preferred to play things safe, and both McGonagall and Sprout were feeling too protective of their charges to leave the man unbound.

The door opened, and all turned to see Albus Dumbledore walk in.

"Good evening," he said, his voice bland but his eyes sharp as they rested on their stunned captive. "I checked the wards, and it was indeed Quirinius who led the troll into the castle. Shall we?"

As one they turned back to Quirrell, Flitwick hitting him with an Ennervate. Dumbledore was already speaking before the man could fully get his bearings.

"Ah, Quirinius. What compelled you to let loose a troll in a school full of children?" As before, his voice was pleasant, but a single look into the blue eyes showed a steel many never saw in the gentle headmaster.

Quirrell blustered that he would never and how could they think that of him, but Dumbledore cut right through his nervous protests.

"Quirinius."

The man fell quiet as though his strings had been cut, but soon rallied himself and began a new attempt to convince them of his innocence. This continued for well over an hour before even Dumbledore found his patience at its end.

"Severus," he said simply, and the dark figure nodded. Stalking around the seated and bound figure like a predator circles its prey, he began to speak lowly.

"There are arts that you cannot even conceive of, Quirrell," he said, his low voice caressing the words. "Magics that strip your free will from you and take your power away. Means to lay bare your very soul, with every secret revealed for us to see." Leaning in to whisper in Quirrell's ear, he finished, "Shall I show you?"

"Severus," a sibilant voice said, and the Potions Master jerked back as though stung. A disbelieving silence filled the room, broken by one question.

"My Lord?" Snape's colleagues could see the horror on his face before he wrestled it into submission, but none of them had such mastery over their own expressions.

"Tom," Dumbledore sighed, suddenly looking every bit his age. "I should have known." With a flick of his wand Quirrell's turban unraveled itself, the disfigured face on the back of his head visible only to Snape, who took in the inhuman visage with shock. This wasn't the charismatic, handsome man who had lured him into the folds of a violent organization with clever words and enticing promises. This face reflected the monster Snape had only realized too late resided within the beautiful wizard.

"Severus," the parasite began, but Snape turned away.

"The Department of Magical Law Enforcement should be brought in," he said, an edge to his voice the other professors had never heard before but Dumbledore recognized. The headmaster nodded, already speaking the incantation for a Patronus message.

"And so even you betray me, Severus?"

Snape stiffened but gave no other reaction to his former master's question. His fellow heads of house rallied around him, Flitwick casting a Silencing charm at Quirrell with a distasteful expression.

"You bear my Mark; you are _mine_ ," the voice hissed, and Flitwick snapped, "Silencio," with a sidestep to hit the inhuman face rather than Quirrell himself. Sprout laid a hand on Snape's shoulder, but he shrugged it off, acknowledging the gesture with a curt nod of thanks for her support. She simply nodded back with a queasy smile, well used to the prickly man's quirks.

Sending off the Patronus with its message for the head of the DMLE, Dumbledore stunned Quirrell with a flick of his wand. "I see no reason to be glared at as we wait," he commented lightly, and McGonagall snorted.

"Perhaps I might offer you a drink in the meantime," Snape suggested smoothly, already turning for the door. "Tea, brandy?"

"Yes, thank you, Severus," McGonagall agreed promptly. The unsmiling man strode out of the room without waiting for further comment, leaving behind a tense silence that even Dumbledore seemed to have given in to. None of the teachers asked how this could be – Dumbledore had shared with them his theory of Voldemort's survival as a matter of course, and they had all feared this very eventuality when the headmaster had agreed to guard the Philosopher's Stone for the Flamels as they faked their deaths once more.

As if they had all reached the same thought at the same time, they all stirred. "I'll go check," Flitwick volunteered, and the others nodded in agreement. As it was, it only took him a quarter hour, by which time his fellow professors were all enjoying a cup of spiked tea in comfortable armchairs – well, all but Snape, who kept a silent watch from the corner by the doorway.

"The Aurors?" Flitwick asked, and Snape snorted.

"When have they ever reacted quickly?" he snarked, and to their surprise a low sigh came from Dumbledore. It was the main reason why he'd founded the Order of the Phoenix, after all.

Another quarter hour later Dumbledore rose from his seat. "I will escort our guests," he said calmly. "Please be ready to receive us." With that he left the room, and the professors exchanged glances before setting about preparing the room. McGonagall transfigured the soft armchairs into hard and stately wooden chairs, Flitwick levitated Quirrell's chair and set it to slowly turn in the air so that the Aurors would get a good look at the two-faced head, Sprout gathered up the tea things and Snape cast a number of wards to prevent the Aurors from doing anything to harm their captive. He cast a Patronus as an afterthought, and the other professors added theirs to guard the room. By the time they heard footsteps approaching their preparations were complete and the Aurors walked in to see them calmly sitting around Quirrell's floating form. The exclamations of shock were quite satisfying.

"As you can see, the matter is well under control," Dumbledore said calmly as he led the head of department into the room, apparently oblivious to her bug-eyed surprise. Things proceeded swiftly after that, the headmaster effortlessly moving things along as he benevolently took charge, and before another hour was up a trial date had been set, the teachers' statements taken, and Quirrell passed on into Auror custody. The staff waited until the Aurors had left the castle grounds with the stunned captive before sharing brief clasps of the hand and heading off to their beds. It was reassuring to know that they continued to be a good team, and remained capable of protecting the students despite the years of peace and their advancing ages.

And thus were years of a young boy's struggle averted through the competence of a school's staff.


End file.
